


Little Brothers Are Precious

by kiyala



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Dark, Gen, Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-10
Updated: 2009-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-12 02:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kristoph loves Klavier in his own, twisted way. He'll do anything, even if that means killing their parents to have Klavier all to himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Brothers Are Precious

  
Kristoph Gavin loved his parents. He really, truly did. They had done so very much for him, raising him with care and teaching him how to act like a proper gentleman. They had provided such a large, luxurious manor to grow up in. And most importantly, they had provided him with a little brother to take care of the same way they had taken care of him.

"You must take care of your little brother when he is born, ja?" his mother had told him when she was pregnant. "Little brothers are the most precious things in the world."

He believed her.

He saw it in Klavier's eyes; the way he followed Kristoph everywhere from the moment he learned to walk. The way the smile that was always on his face became twice as bright whenever he saw Kristoph smiling at him. He first suspected it, when Klavier's first word had been _Kris_ and by the time Klavier had even started brushing his hair the same way as his brother, Kristoph was certain of it.

Klavier was _his brother_. His. Nobody else's. Klavier was his own - he repeated it in his head on occasion and as sharp and perceptive as Kristoph was for the most part, he was unaware when it turned from a small assurance to a possessive obsession.

He hated everybody who dared to come near his brother. He hated the kind maids, he hated the adoring teachers. He hated the friends Klavier made at school - absolutely loathed the tall, loud one with black hair - and eventually, he began to hate his parents as well.

*

  
When Kristoph was eighteen and Klavier was ten, their parents decided that they would be able to take care of themselves for long enough to go on trips. Their mother explained to them that they were going to the country side for the weekend. She kept her hands on Klavier's shoulders as she told Kristoph things he already knew - where the first aid kit was, when the cook would serve breakfasts, lunches and dinners, who to call if anything came up. Kristoph nodded through the entire speech in his usual polite manner but he could not stop the stream of thought that started somewhere at the back of his mind and became progressively louder; _we'll be fine you don't need to tell me this I know how to take care of my own brother just get out of here and leave us alone stop touching him he is my brother stop touching him stop touching him STOP TOUCHING HIM STOP TOUCHING HIM._

She kissed Klavier on the cheek before she left and it took all of Kristoph's will power to keep himself from hitting her. He kissed her cheek when she kissed his and returned the quick hug and their parents were finally out of the house. Kristoph waited to hear the car leave the driveway before he relaxed.

"Guess what, big bro?" Klavier asked, using that _stupid_ abbreviation that he had picked up from that _idiotic_ friend of his. "I asked Mother if it was okay to spend the weekend with Daryan and she said I could! They're coming to pick me up soon."

"Oh really?" Kristoph smiled. He let Klavier run off to get ready before his expression darkened. He hadn't been told of this. Perhaps their mother had kept it from him on purpose - perhaps she knew that if he had found out before they'd left, he would find a way to prevent it. He couldn't say anything now without looking as though he was the bad one.

His mother had set him up for a trap. He was sure of it.

*

  
It soon became a regular occurrence for their parents to spend the weekend away. They owned a country house that Kristoph and Klavier had occasionally spent holidays in, but now they went alone.

More often than not, Klavier spent the weekend with Daryan. Their mother never spoke of it to Kristoph, instead letting Klavier tell her all about what they did in the poorly furnished apartment the Crescends lived in. Daryan had gotten a guitar for Christmas and his father was teaching them how to play. Kristoph was horrified when he found his father researching guitars - even more so when Klavier unwrapped _three_ guitars on his birthday.

It wasn't until Klavier was twelve and attending the same high school as Daryan, spending his weekends with his best friend composing so-called music, that the idea struck Kristoph. He would be turning twenty-one the following week and already a well-paying job in a reputable law firm after an accelerated education.

He gave himself two weeks. He read books in the library on the mechanics of cars, read until he found what he was looking for and then read other books to confirm his findings. He was ready within a day. He spent the next thirteen letting it build up. He would have practiced keeping a straight face, but he was already a master at that.

Every Friday night, their father would sit in his study with a thick book and a bottle of wine after their mother went to bed. Kristoph took the opportunity to slip out unnoticed.

The next morning, it was almost eleven when Kristoph answered the doorbell to find two policemen there. Hats off and apologetic looks on their faces, they explained that the Mercedes his father loved so very much had gotten in an accident - a head-on collision with a truck at an intersection. Preliminary investigations had shown that the brakes had failed but they were waiting on a professional before they could say anything for sure. Mr. and Mrs. Gavin had died immediately.

Quietly thanking the policemen and letting them leave, he walked to the phone and dialed the Crescends' number, requesting to pick Klavier up immediately. He explained everything on the drive home, choosing his words carefully. By the time they returned to the manor - _their_ manor now - Klavier had tears streaming down his cheeks but made no sound. Kristoph considered it an improvement from the bawling he had expected.

The days passed. Daryan spent more time at the manor to keep Klavier company. Kristoph tolerated it only because he knew that it was what a Good Brother would do. The gardener was found guilty for tampering with the brakes of the Mercedes, thanks to Kristoph's quick decision-making. With the investigation over and the funeral taken care of, the Gavins' wills were executed, leaving the manor in Kristoph's name and their considerable fortune split evenly between the two of them.

They barely spoke of it. Klavier was young and stubborn, reluctant to admit that he was upset. Not to Daryan and certainly not to Kristoph. He only brought it up once, after it was decided that Kristoph would now be his legal guardian.

"Hey. Bro."

"Hm?"

"...Are you sad? I mean... it's a stupid question, but I thought it'd be more polite to ask, ja? Your... your hands start shaking every now and then. I'm worried."

Kristoph smiled. Klavier instinctively smiled wider.

"Klavier, of course I'm sad. But I have you, do I not? You make it much easier to deal with this... sadness."

Klavier nodded a little, satisfied by the answer. He returned to his room and Kristoph frowned a little, feeling a slight pinch of guilt for lying to his dear brother. But he knew that he couldn't tell the truth.

 _Sad, Klavier? I've never been happier._

x

  



End file.
